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Desperado growled and punched his pillow with all the rage he could muster at fuck who knows what time at night as several pings in a row chimed on his phone. The one night he actually needed sleep, and someone decided that now was the opportune time to text him relentlessly, seemingly uncaring of the fact that normal people were sleeping at this hour, which meant that there was only one person that could be doing this.
Hiromu Takahashi was just the type of demon who would keep a man from his precious sleep. He was precisely the type of rat that would send a million messages in a row that Desperado just knew were going to be pointless as all shit.
But, unfortunately, there was also the possibility that this could be an actual emergency, so he shot his hand out to grab his damned phone, opening his eyes as small as he could so that the light from his phone wouldn’t blind him, but of course, it didn’t work. He hissed in his displeasure, not caring that he sounded ridiculous in the quiet of his room, and unlocked his phone a bit more forcefully than strictly necessary to get to his texts messages.
Of. Fucking. Course.
Eleven unread messages from Hiromu. Eleven. And it was one thirty in the fucking morning. Desperado made a vow to smash Hiromu’s head into the goddamn pavement next time he saw him. Or maybe he’d even go out of his way, find out where he lived, and interrupt him while he was sleeping so he could kick his teeth in.
That was, if Hiromu actually slept. Desperado made a face. It wouldn’t surprise him if Hiromu was some sort of freak of nature that didn’t need to rest like normal humans did. If anyone could do it, it would be Hiromu.
Hiromu: Did you know a group of cats is called a ‘glaring’?
Hiromu: Isn’t that cute? It’s like you! Always glaring.
Hiromu: Why do you always glare?
Hiromu: meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow
Hiromu: You’re not answering me
Hiromu: Are you sleeping?
Hiromu: Cats spend approximately 70% of their lives sleeping.
Hiromu: Does that mean you are a cat?
Hiromu: meow meow
Hiromu: Did you know that the first known recorded video of a cat was taken in 1894?
Hiromu: Do you want me to send you cat videos?
Desperado really, well and truly wanted nothing more than to snap his phone in half and go back to sleep. But, unfortunately, somewhere buried deep within him was some sympathy for the poor fool. Maybe he just couldn’t sleep and wanted some company. Desperado knew the toll lonely nights could take on a man.
That didn’t ease his frustrations completely, but it did make him feel a little less violent. Still. One thirty in the fucking morning. Desperado scowled, but typed up a response anyway.
Desperado: Stop sending me weird stuff so late at night.
There. Not as mean as he could have been. He was proud of his progress.
Hiromu: Did I wake you?
Desperado sighed at the immediate response, rubbing his face with one hand. Ah, hell. Now he felt bad. He could just picture the pout on his stupid little cute face.
Hiromu: You didn’t have to be so mean about it.
Hiromu: Cat facts aren’t weird. They’re very fun and interesting and you’re welcome
Ah, nevermind. He didn’t feel bad anymore. In fact, that twitch in his fingertips was returning, like his hand was trying to form a fist, as if the man himself was in punching distance, which regrettably, he wasn’t. Or maybe that was a good thing. Whatever. Desperado didn’t know, it was one thirty in the morning.
Desperado: I’m not saying thank you for you waking me up, Hiromu. You’re delusional.
Hiromu: It’s not my fault I can’t sleep!
Desperado sat up, running his fingers through his long, messy hair, letting out a long yawn, stretching his back and arms with a high reach before he found his patience again to text Hiromu back.
Desperado: And what do you want me to do about that?
Hiromu’s response was terrifyingly quick, and said exactly what Desperado knew it would say. Damn it.
Hiromu: I’m on my way over
Desperado shook his head, grumpily throwing the blankets off of his legs and stomping childishly to his bathroom to get a hair tie and make himself look moderately presentable for company. Hiromu Takahashi was going to be the death of him, but, then again, Desperado kind of already knew that. And maybe it didn’t bother him all that much, but he’d never tell.
Desperado: If you’re still awake in my house past three, I’m strangling you.
Hiromu: See you in a few, meow!
Fucker.